SeventeeN

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It was a bright and sunny morning. The first rays of sunlight poured through the windows of the living area, casting a warm glow throughout the house. In the kitchen, the soothing sound of garlic, onions, carrots, and other veggies sizzling in the pan filled the air. The delicious aroma danced through the house, making it feel cozy and inviting. Fighter carefully mixed the cold rice into the pan, stirring it thoroughly. Using high heat, he ensured the rice and veggies fried and browned well, creating a perfect breakfast dish.

After a few minutes of stirring and frying the rice, Fighter poured a spoonful of soy sauce into the pan and gave it another thorough stir. Once the fried rice was perfectly seasoned, he set it on a plate and placed it on the dining table. Next, he cooked two sunny-side-up eggs and fried some sausages. To complete the meal, he prepared two cups of coffee. With breakfast ready, Fighter removed his apron and headed to the bedroom to call Saint.

As he opened the bedroom door, Fighter froze, taken aback by the sight that greeted him. Saint stood there, shirtless with only a bath towel wrapped around his waist. Fresh from a shower, Saint's slicked-back hair accentuated his forehead, adding to his allure. Fighter couldn't help but notice Saint's firm chest and pink nipples, along with his well-defined six-pack abs—a sight he found irresistibly attractive, especially on someone he cared for deeply. Fighter's mouth went dry as he unintentionally glanced lower, noticing the faint outline of Saint's form through the white towel. Quickly averting his gaze, he looked anywhere else in the room, feeling flustered and trying to regain his composure.

Saint observed Fighter's reaction and moved closer, stepping toward him near the door and gently closing it. He locked eyes with Fighter, his touch soft as he caressed Fighter's face and pinned him lightly by the shoulders against the door.

"S-Saint. Wh-what are you doing?" Fighter stammered, feeling the door at his back, almost blending into one with him due to Saint's closeness.

"You're too close," Fighter managed to say, gripping Saint's waist to halt his approach.

"Are you shy, Fight?" Saint murmured softly, wiping the sweat from Fighter's forehead with gentle care.

"B-breakfast... is r-ready," Fighter stuttered, pushing past him and swiftly leaving the bedroom.

Saint always had a profound effect on Fighter. Being so close to him stirred up emotions that made Fighter feel weak and flustered whenever Saint was near.

___

"Fine. Just one week."

Saint ended the call abruptly, frustration evident as he thumped his phone onto the table with a loud bang. The sudden noise startled everyone in the room, and all eyes turned silently to the annoyed manager.

Picking up his phone again, he quickly texted Fighter. He needed to see Fighter at lunch to calm his nerves; just being around him would ease his stress.

Fight. Let's head out for lunch today.                  Friday, September 3 • 11:37 AM

                                                    YES! 🤩
            Friday, September 3 • 11:37 AM

Now, feeling a bit better after seeing Fighter's reply, Saint reflected on how Fighter had become his source of energy and motivation for a happier life. Thanks to Fighter, his life had become colorful and adventurous in just four months. It was astonishing how someone could have such a profound impact on his life.

Eager to meet Fighter early, Saint resolved to finish his work quickly.

___

Fighter happily sang a song he had learned a few days ago as he showered. Exiting the bathroom, he draped a bath towel over his shoulder and swayed to an imaginary tune in the bedroom.

He picked up a bunny plush lying on their bed and stroked its head lovingly. "We're going out today, Sup. Isn't that exciting?" He hugged the plush tightly before tossing it back onto the bed, remembering he needed to change into something more presentable.

Taking his time to dress, Fighter aimed to impress his favorite person. Checking the time and seeing it was almost noon, he quickly applied perfume and slipped on his shoes.

He went out to the patio to check if Saint had already arrived. Sure enough, Saint's car was parked in front of the building. A beautiful girl with long hair emerged from the entrance, smiling lovingly at Saint. Her smile was enchanting, enough to make any man feel weak. Saint returned her smile, and Fighter didn't like what he was seeing. His grip on the railings tightened, his knuckles turning pale from the exertion.

As the gentleman he was, Saint opened the passenger door for the girl, allowing her to enter. He then made his way to the driver's side and got in. The car sat there for a moment, and just then Fighter's phone rang with a new message. Quickly, he opened it and read the message.

Fight, I think I can't make it today. Sorry.
     Friday, September 3 • 12:05 PM

Fighter's excitement dissipated like a balloon popped by a needle upon receiving Saint's cancellation message for their lunch. Quickly, he typed out a reply, needing to understand the sudden change.

           Why? Are you with someone?
           Friday, September 3 • 12:06 PM

No. Something came up. Sorry, Fight.
    Friday, September 3 • 12:06 PM

Fighter felt a sharp pain in his chest, as though someone were crumpling a piece of paper in their firm grip. He watched the car drive away, then clicked the send button on his reply.

                          Okay. Next time. 😊
          Friday, September 3 • 12:07 PM

He pressed his lips together in disappointment, swallowing the pain gnawing at his stomach.

"Did he just... lie to me?" he mumbled softly. Turning around with heavy steps, he headed back inside. As he did, two gray feathers fell from his back, caught momentarily by the wind before drifting away into the air.

Removing his shoes, he flopped down on the bed, lying on his stomach. Staring at the plushy beside him, he tried to make sense of the mix of emotions swirling inside him.

"Do you know that I can't stand liars?" Fighter poked the lifeless plushy, his voice tinged with frustration. Blinking back tears that threatened to fall, he sighed deeply, the weight of disappointment heavy on his chest. For someone like Fighter, honesty was paramount; deceit cut deep.

As he drifted off to sleep in his outdoor clothes, a tear escaped from his closed eyes. Another single grey feather emerged and settled silently on his back.

"I'm sad," Fighter mumbled softly in his sleep, his words a whispered echo of his heartache.

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